


Playing Doctor

by Maplesyrup



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Doctor/Patient, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Not Beta Read, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, kind of non-con because he's a doctor and she's the patient, see you all in hell, totally not appropriate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/pseuds/Maplesyrup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storybrooke AU where Gold is the only ob/gyn in town, and Belle has to get her first exam.</p><p>Sorry not even sorry.</p><p>**Open to prompts via tumblr!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See y'all in hell ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

 

Dr. Thaddeus Gold was washing his hands after his appointment with Miss Blanchard and her newest child when a nurse interrupted him.

“There you are, Dr. Gold! Your 10 o'clock is here.” The nurse glanced down at a thin manila folder open in her hands. “She's new, a Miss…Belle French.”

He turned off the faucet, drying his hands with paper towel. “Thank you, dearie,” he said, his Scottish brogue warming the words. “Have her wait in exam room 2, please? I’ll be along shortly.”

“Will do!” She flashed a grin as she handed him the file and left to escort the young woman to her room.

Thaddeus pulled his reading glasses from his lab coat pocked and perched them on his nose. He opened the file, browsing its contents to get a head start on the patient’s needs. He saw his secretary’s notes in the sidelines.

_New patient and new to town. 21y.o. First time seeing a GYN. Nervous on the phone, poor thing. Be nice to her, Gold._

He chuckled. His medical secretary Astrid was excellent, but a tad impertinent. Thaddeus was brusque, yes, but not unkind. He was also the only OB/GYN around, not just in the small town of Storybrooke, but for twenty miles. If he was succinct, it was only because he was too busy. He supposed he could take on more help from a local medical school, but the denizens of this town tended to be habitual creatures, and didn't take kindly to newfangled notions, like more than one lady-parts doctor.

Rolling his eyes at the thought, he made his way to the exam room that held his newest patient. He automatically gave a couple short knocks when he reached the door, his nose still in the file.

“Miss French?” He said as he opened the door and walked in, not yet looking up. “I'm Dr. Thaddeus Gold, its a pleasure to meet you.” He finally raised his eyes, a polite smile on his face, and met a young brunette, quite pretty and by all accounts, very nervous. 

She had on the usual patient dressing gown, and part of his mind noticed that the odd medical-blue shade clashed with her bright eyes, which were a much richer shade of cerulean.

He mentally shook himself and extended a hand to her. She took it briefly, her eyes casting downwards and a faint blush staining her cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, too, Dr. Gold.”

Thaddeus withdrew his hand and pulled the rolling stool from the corner over to sit in front of her. He decided to take a little extra time with Miss French this day, seeing as it was her first visit to his office and to a GYN in general.

“Now, Miss French, what brings you in today?" 

She blushed and stammered. “Well, um, I-I'm overdue, I think, for an...exam. So that's why I'm here. For...for the, uh, exam. “

“I see.” He smiled in understanding. “And that’s all you need today? Just the exam?”

“Yes. Wait! No. I also need to get, um, birth control.” She let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, we can do both. But, Miss French, I can see that you're a little nervous. Would you like to have a nurse in here with you? Many of my nurses are women and would be happy to—“

“No!” She practically shouted. “Sorry, no, I don’t need anyone else in here to...to see this." 

He frowned in confusion. “Forgive me for asking, Miss French, but what exactly do you think is going to happen today?”

“Oh! I know what's going to happen. I've read about it. And I'm the last of my friends to have it done, so I figured, better just get it over with!” She clutched her hands in her lap and let out a shaky breath.

Thaddeus was well and truly flummoxed. He'd seen nervous patients in his day, sure, but this poor girl was behaving as if a routine exam was the end of the world. He closed her file gently and crossed his hands in his lap as he looked at her.

“Miss French, you're obviously in some distress. We don't have to do this today, you can come back when you feel better. And you don't need an exam to get birth control, you can walk out right now with a prescription and go about your merry way.” He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

She shook her head. “Nope. It's today or never. But…thanks, Dr. Gold.” She offered a sheepish smile. “I know I'm being really stupid right now.”

“Not at all. It's normal for a woman to be nervous at her first gynecological exam. I can assure you, that is definitely routine.” He said with humor, trying to lighten her mood. “I'm just going to ask you some questions and then we can get down to the exam, and you'll see it's taken us longer to have this conversation the actual exam will take.” That earned him a small giggle. “Now, may ask you a few questions?”

She nodded. 

“Wonderful. Alright then.” He readjusted the glasses on his nose. “Like I said, these are all routine.”

Opening her file once more, he scanned the contents. “I see that you’re new in town, and judging by your accent, you’re probably not from the States?”

She nodded. “My father and I just moved here from south of Sydney. My mother passed away about a year ago, and Dad wanted a change of scenery, I guess. We have the flower shop that just opened in town.”

“Oh, your family owns _Game of Thorns_? That’s practically across the street from my pawnshop." 

“Pawnshop? But, you’re a doctor…” She gave him a puzzled smile.

He gave a light laugh. “Yes, that I am, but before I went to medical school several years ago, I had a little pawnshop. Now my son runs it. He’s studying business in college, and keeping my shop is a wonderful project to test all the theory he’s learning.” He stopped, wondering why he was spilling his life story to a patient, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He told himself it was all part of making a new patient less nervous. That’s it.

Thaddeus cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re a recent transplant, so welcome. I’m one myself, as you might have noticed by my storybook-villain accent.” He smirked in self-deprecation.

This time, she laughed in earnest. “Oh, not at all! I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland, so meeting a real, live Scot is halfway to a dream come true. I’ve read about it and it sounds so wild and romantic. Have you heard of the Outlander series of books? I think they even made a tv show about it. It’s all about this woman who goes back in time to seventeenth-century Scotland and—“ She stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment again. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m a magpie. I’m sure you have plenty of other questions to ask and patients to see." 

He waved a negligent hand. “It’s quite alright, Miss French, but you’re right. We should continue. Now, these next questions are a little more personal, but I want you to know that they are purely to help compile an accurate patient background, and you can refuse any question you’d like. Alright?”

Belle hesitated before nodding, her nervousness returning full force. “That…that’s ok, I guess. I can answer what you ask. I suppose you can’t truly help with anything if I’m not honest, no matter how…weird I find all of this.” She ducked her head.

“Very sensible of you, Miss French, but all the same: don’t answer anything you’re truly not comfortable with.”

 “Deal.”

 Thaddeus looked down into the folder, smirking at her choice of words. “Are your menstrual cycles regular?”

 “Yes.”

 “Good. Any concerns about PMS, or menstrual pain, things like that?”

 “Nope!” She kept her head down, refusing to look at him. He supposed it made answering embarrassing questions easier.

 “Are you, ah, s-sexually active?” He stumbled over the words, and frowned at the folder. What the hell was wrong with him? It was a routine question, get a grip, Gold.

 “Um…” She dithered. “…No?”

 He looked up at her. “Are you asking or telling?”

 “Well, I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘sexually active’.”

 “Have you had sexual intercourse?”

 “…Almost.”

 “‘Almost’?”

 She blew out a breath in frustrated embarrassment. “If you’re asking if there was full…penetration, then no, there wasn’t. I was…too scared to do much.”

Thaddeus removed his glasses, concern for her etched in his brow. “‘Too scared’? Miss French, did someone try to force themselves on you?”

“Oh, god, no, it wasn’t like that!” She dropped her face into her hands. “There was a guy, Gaston, back in University, and I thought we… but he was…” She trailed off. 

“He was what? Gay?”

“An idiot.” She finished in exasperation.

He laughed out loud. “Well, not to malign my own gender, but most men are when it comes to women.” 

“Yeah, but Gaston was another level of stupid. He didn’t know the difference between a vulva and a vagina and he couldn't find a clitoris in a fully-lit room with both hands and a magnifying glass.” She seemed to realize what she was saying, and clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide on his in mortification.

Thaddeus was torn between amusement and pride that a young woman knew her own anatomy so well.

“Yes, well, as long as you practice proper sexual health habits, you should be fine when you decide to have intercourse. Shall we continue?”  
  
“Yes, please.” She squeaked, her head down once more.

He groaned inwardly at the next question, but it was part of his belief and his practice that sexual health meant physical _and_ emotional, so he tamped down on his own discomfort and asked anyway.

“Do you masturbate?” He kept his own head down as he asked, trying to appear clinical and nothing more than professionally interested in the answer.

“Uh, hard pass on that one, Dr. Gold.” She blustered. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

He looked at her over the rim of his glasses, her tone surprising him. “It’s alright, Miss French. Like I said, you don’t need to give a response to anything you don’t wish to.” _Despite how very much I wish you would._

 _…What the fuck, Gold._  

He finished the usual questions quickly, and explained how the vaginal and breast exams would go, trying to save her some embarrassment, and placed the folder on the exam room counter when he finished.

“Alright, the worst is over.” Thaddeus smiled at her, trying to keep things light. “I’d like to do the physical exams now, Miss French, so I’ll need you to scoot down the table, and put your heels in the stirrups on either side.” 

She did as she was told, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

“Are you allergic to latex, Miss French?” He asked, standing and reaching for a box of gloves.

“No, no allergies that I know of. I mean, unless you count venom. As a kid I was bitten by a snake in my backyard and my ankle swelled up to practically the size of a volleyball, and they had to cut my sneaker off at the emergency room. But I suppose there aren’t many poisonous snakes in Storybrooke, right?” She gave a nervous laugh.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, looking down at her with a kind expression. “Take a deep breath, and relax. It’s ok. Is there anything you want to ask before we start?”

“Is it going to hurt?” Belle looked at him with a wary expression.

“No. It shouldn’t hurt one bit.” 

“Can you die of embarrassment?”

He chuckled. “Not that I’m aware of, and I’ve seen my fair share of embarrassed women.” He moved back to the rolling stool and sat, sliding towards her bent legs. He looked at her from between her knees, his expression momentarily serious.  “Now, you tell me if at any point you want this to stop, and we’ll stop, is that clear? You are in control here, it’s your body and you say what goes.”

He saw her nod. “Yes, I understand.” She laid her head back down. “Can I talk if I want to?”

He pulled the instrument tray towards him and adjusted a few things. “Of course. You can tell me anything you want to, it all stays here.”

“Ok.”

He moved back between her legs, gently pushing her gown away for better access and took up the first instrument. 

Contrary to popular suspicion, Thaddeus didn't become a gynecologist because he wanted to look at vulvas all day, or because he fancied himself some sort of perverted connoisseur of lady-bits. He became one because he’d seen too many of his countrywomen suffer, and sometimes die, in his youth because of outdated and stupid laws governing women’s reproductive health. His first wife died because of a lack of routine gynecological care after their son was born, when they were too poor to afford it, and he swore that someday he’d find a way to protect other women from suffering a fate like that.

He was lost in memory when he noticed Belle was speaking to him.

“Yes, Miss French? Forgive me, I was on autopilot.”

“Oh, that’s ok. I’m the same way when cutting flowers in Dad’s shop. You see enough of them and you kind of become immune to it after awhile. I’d imagine it’s the same with vulvas.” She mused aloud.

He chuckled and heard her groan in response. “Jesus christ, what is _wrong_ with me? I’m sorry, Dr. Gold. That’s an awful thing to say.”

“Not at all, Miss French.” He placed a no-longer-needed instrument back on the tray. “Though in gynecological defense, and forgive me for saying this, no two pieces of female anatomy are ever alike.” He paused for a moment, trying to find the best way to describe it without scaring her off the table. “It’s sort of like the human face. Even identical twins are just slightly different. However, from a professional point of view, you learn to just take each woman as she is and not put too much thought into more than what’s medical necessity.”

“Oh.” She responded quietly. She was silent for several moments, seemingly lost in thought as she stared at the ceiling. “Dr. Gold?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I…look pretty?”

He gawped and she seemed to take his silence to mean he needed clarification.

“My…my vulva, I mean. Is it…pretty?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Miss French, I can’t answer that question. I’m sorry.”

 “Oh. Right, of course not. It was inappropriate to ask.”

He stood up, seeing her trying very hard to keep staring at the tiles above her instead of meeting his eyes. “I need to do the manual part of the exam now, Miss French. Standing helps with leverage. Are you comfortable with this?” 

She bravely gave him a thumbs-up, still not looking at him. “Yep, I’m good. No pain so far.”

“Good. Just let me know if you change your mind or if you have any more questions, ok?”

“…Ok.”

Thaddeus reached down to the table and spread a small bit of lubricating jelly on his fingertips. “Fair warning, this might be a teensy bit cold.”

“As long as it’s not as cold as the speculum, I’m ok.”  
  
He laughed. “I’m sorry about that, normally we warm them, but my nurse must have forgotten before hand. Next year I promise it will be warm.” He heard her snort a laugh.

He slipped his first two fingers inside her, and heard her gasp, her inner muscles tightening around his fingers.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” His brow furrowed in worry.  
  
“Y-yes! I mean, no, sorry! I’m fine.” She had a hand over her face and he could see she was flushed and breathing somewhat heavily. Compassion bloomed in his chest at her distress.

“Miss French, perhaps we should stop and continue another time. I can see you’re uncomfortable.” He began to remove his fingers, but she stopped him.

“No! No, it’s ok, Dr. Gold. I’m not in pain. I’m just, um… _sensitive_.” She brought both her hands to cover her red face. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned it when you were asking! Just…kill me now, please?”

“Sensitive?” He mulled this over for a moment before realizing. He swallowed thickly. “Do you mean…e-easily aroused?” 

She squeaked a tiny, “yes.” 

He was torn right in half between the professional desire to finish the exam, and the very inappropriate desire to finish her. He should really remove himself from the room and have a nurse finish, despite them not having the full qualifications. Sweat broke out in small beads across his forehead as he struggled.

She whimpered on his exam table, his fingers still inside her. “Dr. Gold, can we…can you please finish the exam?”  
  
He snapped out of his indecision at the plaintive note in her voice. “Y-yes. Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He tried to focus on examining her but she kept letting out small noises around her hand cupped over her mouth until he didn’t think he could take it anymore.

He moved his fingers, trying like hell to concentrate on the exam instead of her noises, and she keened softly. He closed his eyes at the shock of desire that speared through him. He tried to shut out everything that wasn’t clinical, but when he curled his fingers up and placed a hand on her abdomen to press for any abnormalities, he heard her cry out, felt her inner walls flutter and clench around him, and he knew he’d just made her come.

They were both panting as she relaxed; Belle from exertion, Thaddeus from tension. He pulled his fingers from her and saw her flinch a little before sitting up. He turned away, busying himself at the sink.

“E-everything seems fine, Miss French.” He removed his gloves and tossed them in the bin. “I’ll leave so you can get dressed, and will send the samples into the lab, and you should have the results in a week or two, though I’m sure everything is just fine.” He turned back around, but couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. “It was…nice to have, ah, met you. Have a good day." 

He opened the door and left like he was escaping death itself. He cursed as he remembered he left the folder on the sink, but decided to let a nurse get it.

Astrid chose that moment to walk by, and noticing his flushed face, stopped, a look of concern crossing hers. 

“Dr. Gold? Are you ok?”

He started, glancing at her guiltily. “What? Oh, yes. Fine, everything’s fine. Can you, uh, please send a nurse in to-to discharge,” He cringed at his choice of words, and pointed frantically to the room behind him, “Her?”

Astrid pointed as well. “Her? You mean, Miss French? Sure, I’ll have Ruby handle it. Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

He pushed away from the door, and moved towards his office. “Fine, fine, Astrid. Can you, um, clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I…have to go.”  
  
“Clear your schedule? It’s not even eleven yet, you’ve got, like a dozen patients to see before six!”

“Move them to the weekend, I don’t care. I’ll come in by myself to handle them.”

Astrid sighed in frustration. “Fine, I’ll just call them all and reschedule. But you’re not off the hook for this yet, Doc.”

He didn’t hear her, having reached his office and slamming the door behind him, turning the lock with a decisive _click!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, several things:  
> 1\. If you like this and want more chapters, let me know! Or I can keep this as a weird little one-shot. (I'd rather make it chaptered, but only if it will be read :D)
> 
> 2\. Doctors and patients having sex like this are a BIG, FAT NO NO in real life, and this is fiction, so keep that in mind before lobbing hate at my head.
> 
> 3\. Gaston is back on OUAT this Sunday and this is my way of saying NO THX BAI I HATE YOU BAI (because apparently I'm not really an adult).
> 
> 4\. Everyone: Don’t be like this story's idiot Gaston.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of chapter 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles in the corner*

_Two weeks later..._

Thaddeus had spent the past two weeks looking over his shoulder and waiting for sheriff Swan to knock down his door and take him to jail in handcuffs. But as each day passed and nothing happened, the fear receded, leaving only confusion.

Why had Belle not reported him? Or at least come to his office and ripped into him for his behavior? Why wasn't her father trying to shove a trowel down his throat, or, somewhere else?

The questions pinged around his brain as he met with patients and managed their problems and the paperwork that came with.

He'd bolted to his office after what happened and paced nervously for a good hour before sneaking out the back door. He couldn't bring himself to run into anyone, lest they see right through him and call him out for the pervert he was.

He’d pulled up to his house and let his head drop on the steering wheel in despair before jerking back at the indignant _honk!_ of the horn. He’d dropped a glass, breaking it and spilling whiskey, chipped a teacup and decided the gods were fucking mocking him.  
  
His jittery behavior  had carried over to work, and one encounter was burned into his brain that happened as a result of his distraction.

He’d had his nose in a file, as usual, but wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking and entered the wrong room.

“Alright, first thing’s first: we need to talk about your weight, Madam. Too many of your own lasagna’s apparently haven’t just affected your cholesterol, but are stretching your waistline, and with your PCOS—“

“Excuse me?!”

His head jerked up at the affronted screech and he saw Mrs. Ashley Maguire glaring at him, her arms crossed over a very pregnant stomach.

Thaddeus gulped and looked at the folder, then back at her. 

“You’re not Mrs. Lucas.” He said lamely.

“I sure as hell hope not! Especially if that’s how you were planning to tell her she’s overweight!” 

He laughed nervously. “Yes, um, I’m just going to go see Mrs. Lucas now. E-excuse me. I’ll send a nurse in to see you.”

She snorted as he turned to leave yet another room like his ass was on fire.

Once his afternoon patients were seen to, he went back to his desk and slumped into the chair. He took a deep breath and pulled out a recent copy of a national journal on reproductive health and tried to immerse himself in an article about the side effects of the new men’s birth control the FDA was screening when a knock sounded at his office door.

He looked up, surprised. Normally Astrid just walked in, and the nurses never bothered him, they were capable of handling their work without needing guidance. That could only mean…

_Oh fuck._

His stomach plummeted. 

Someone on the other side of his door was here about Belle. 

He looked around the room in a panic, and part of him wondered if he should just jump out the window. No, better yet, break the window and use the glass to—

The person knocked again. He heard a small voice on the other side say his name.

_Fuckfuckfuck._

Thaddeus yanked his cellphone out of his desk and smacked it down next to him, pulling up his lawyer’s contact info in case he needed to call her immediately.

He took a deep, if shaky, breath and called out.

“Come in!”

It was the slowest opening of a door of his damn life. He saw a small hand curve around the edge and a very pretty face poked inside the room, eyes wide and looking as nervous as he felt, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

For the second time in two weeks, he was struck with just how pretty she was, and his inner imp suggested slyly how nice it might be to take that lip of hers and nibble on it for himself.

Somehow, he managed to speak without throwing up from panic.

“Miss French. What a pl—um, h-how did you get back here?” He didn’t know what the hell to do with his hands, so he settled for clasping them on his desk.

Her cheeks were red as she slipped in and shut the door. She stood there awkwardly for a moment, twisting her hands and shifting her weight from foot to foot as she looked at him, seeming to try to gather herself enough to speak.

She pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Can I sit?”

“I’m sure you can, but will you?” He immediately regretted saying it as she just stood there looking even more uncertain.

_Smooth, Gold._

“Forgive me, Miss French. A poor attempt at humor. You’re welcome to sit.”

She did, and actually flashed him a small smile. “It was more pedantic than anything.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Pedantic? Really?”  
  
“You are a doctor after all, I thought all doctors were inherent pedants.”

He sobered at the mention of his profession and how it reminded him that, right, he was a fucking pervert, how could he have forgotten?

“Yes, well,” He paused to collect the scraps of his bravery. “What did you need, Miss French?”

Her face went crimson again. “Um…well, I came to-to say that I’m sorry.”

His face went blank. “Sorry? Sorry for what—oh.”

“Yeah.”

His brain decided to stop working properly and all he could do was stare at her.

She grimaced. “Ok, so this is more awkward than I had even imagined. I’m really sorry to have bothered you, I just wanted to let you know that, um, I’m sorry for what happened and you don’t need to worry about having me as a patient again because Dr. Whale has a GP office and he’s offered his services, but now that I say it out loud it sounds kind of weird and—“

His sluggish mind raced to catch up with how fast she was speaking in her nervousness and hearing the words _Whale_ and _services_ in the same sentence snagged on the professional part of his brain. He held up a hand to stop her.

“Wait, wait…did you just say _Whale_ offered to be your _gynecologist?_ ”

She frowned in confusion “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s a general practitioner so he didn’t specialize but I’m sure he’s competent enough.”

Thaddeus scowled. “There is no way in hell you’re going to fucking _Whale_ for GYN services.”

She looked taken aback for a second before scowling right back at him. “I don’t see how that’s your choice to make, Dr. Gold.”

He ignored her and barreled onward. “How in the hell did he even come to offer you something like that? He’s a slime ball, I wouldn’t trust him to know his ass from his stethoscope, let alone the intricacy, the-the _care_ necessary for a woman’s anatomy. He probably just wants to get elbow deep in—“

“Dr. Gold!” She shouted. Her mouth was agape from shock and she looked angry as a hornet.

He gulped, realizing what he’d been saying and added his outburst to the ever-growing list of things he needed to bet her forgiveness for.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find something not-offensive to say and feeling like a landed fish.

Belle sat back in her chair, still angry-looking, but no longer red in the face.

She sighed. “Ok, I can see the only way around this is through it.” She uncrossed her arms and braced them on the armrests of her chair.

“Oh?” He said feebly.

“Yes.”

“…Ok.”

She took a deep breath. “Brass-tacks time, Dr. Gold.”

“Thaddeus.”

“What?”

“Thaddeus, my name is Thaddeus. We’re about to get…real personal so I think you can use my first name.”

“Alright then, Thaddeus. Call me Belle.” He liked the way his name sounded coming out of her mouth and he practically rolled his eyes at his own stupidity.

“So, I had an orgasm on your exam table two weeks ago.”

If he’d had a drink, he’d have spit it all over her. As it was, he practically choked on his own tongue to hear it said so baldly. He collected himself and tried to meet her bluntness.

“Yes, Miss— Belle, you did.”

“And for that, I apologize. My…sensitivity isn’t your fault or problem and I can see that I’ve ruined whatever doctor/patient relationship we could have had.”

“I don’t think that’s—“

This time, she stopped him. “Please, just let me get this out, ok?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. I also apologize for my highly inappropriate question about the…attractiveness of my body. You could have kicked me out then and there, but you continued like a professional.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

“…What?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and wishing the damn floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Don’t worry about it. Please continue.”

She gave him a skeptical look but kept going. “Anyway, it’s clear to me that to continue a professional relationship would be inappropriate, and I take full responsibility for this and hope you can forgive me.”

“Belle, really, I need to—“

“And,” she pushed, “I will see Dr. Whale for the services required.” 

Thaddeus pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for patience. It didn’t come.

“It’s not a big deal, only once a year and as I’m generally healthy—“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” He barked. “I can’t take this anymore.”

She glared, drawing her brows together. “Excuse me?”

His frustrated anger left the path clear for him to get it all out. “Look, Belle, what happened was professionally inexcusable, but not for you, _for me_. _I’m_ the doctor, you’re in _my_ care, _I’m_ responsible for what happens when we’re in that room. There’s a power imbalance and I abused it and it’s warrant enough to have my license revoked.”

“But I won’t—“

“I know, you won’t say anything, because you’re as sweet as you are pretty and braver than I think you realize, but that doesn’t change the facts. You’re my patient. I should have excused myself at your question, but I didn’t, and that and everything after makes me a perverted old man.

“You’re not old—“

“But goddamn it, Belle, if you can’t see me for services, which you shouldn’t, don’t fucking go to Victor Whale. He ‘d love nothing more than to have an excuse to look up a beautiful woman’s skirt and make her pay for the privilege, insurance be damned.”

“…You think I’m beautiful?”

“Christ, if I have to I’ll hire a physician’s assistant so you don’t—“ Her question filtered through his rant. “…What?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“You said ‘pretty’, and then you said ‘beautiful’, both in reference to me.” She smiled shyly.

“Oh.” He floundered, his brilliant tirade completely derailed. “I— yes, you’re…very attractive.”

She smiled again, wide and dazzling and he forgot his name for a minute.

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

That recalled him. “Belle, you can’t be my patient.”  
  
She gave him a sly look. “But you just said an awful lot about how horrible Dr. Whale is. If I can’t see you, and I can’t see him, what do I do? Drive twenty miles away?”

He grasped desperately for a way to convince her it was for the best. “It’s only once a year, and I can put in a call to make sure you get the best care when you go.”

She sighed, looking at him in what he’d call feminine exasperation. “Thaddeus, do you forgive me for my part in what happened?’  
  
He stopped. “There’s nothing to forgive, Belle. It’s me who owes you an apology. Several, in fact.”

“Well, I don’t think you were wrong, and you don’t think I was wrong, so it seems to me that we’re at an impasse. And besides, you won’t have to see me as my doctor for another year, right?”

Thaddeus was completely at sea. This tiny, blue-eyed woman was thoroughly managing him and even his usual strict adherence to the oath of his profession couldn’t save him.

“I…alright. Fine. I’ll…stay your doctor.”

Belle beamed at him and he wondered what the hell she was so excited about.

She stood up to go and stuck her hand out at him. “Thank you for meeting with me today, Dr. Gold. I feel…so much better having spoken to you.”

He stood as well, and took her hand, bemused. “L-likewise, Miss French.”

She moved to the door and opened it, turning to give him one last look. “I’ll see you around, Doc.”

And with that she was gone.

He practically fell back down into his chair, trying to process the past several minutes and figure out what the fuck happened. He glanced at his cell and felt a stab of alarm go through him.

In his haste, he’d accidentally dialed his attorney, Regina, and the call had connected. He picked up the phone like it was a snake threatening to bite him and held it to his ear.

“Hello?” He said tentatively into the mouthpiece.

“Get your ass over here, Gold. You have a lot of fucking explaining to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Gold have a little meeting.

His lawyer was a formidable and intimidating woman. Tall, dark-haired, red-lipped and smarter than fucking necessary. She was staring at him with that particular brand of disgust that was solely the purview of lawyers. The kind that says ' _win or lose I'll get paid, but for the record, you're disgusting_ '.

"What the fuck is wrong with you."

He gave a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Lots of things, dearie, but we'd be here all day if I started on those."  
  
"Don't be an asshole, Gold. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Regina raised an eyebrow, her hands coming to rest one on top of the other on her desk. She leaned in a little.

"You want to tell me why you fucked a new patient in your exam room?"

Thaddeus scowled at her. "I didn't _fuck_ anyone. I had an...inappropriate moment during a routine exam." He spoke in clipped tones. "And what am I explaining to you for? You heard the whole damn thing."

Regina leaned back in her chair. "Yeah, and I also heard the part where you said you'd keep being her doctor. So, once again, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

“I tried to put her off." He supplied weakly.  
  
"Get her off, more like it." She smirked. “And while you apparently did a good job with the one, you hardly tried with the other.”

He threw his hands up and let them fall into his lap with a loud thump that mirrored his irritation. "Regina, goddamn it. If you wanted to be a shit about this, you could have done it over the phone. No need to drag me in just to harass me."  
  
She raised a hand and gestured blithely. "Phone calls leave records, Gold. My office is safe territory and besides, I wanted to see you in person before I decided to tell Emma or not.” She finished with a shark-like smile.  
  
He ground his teeth. "Don't give me that bullshit. I know what attorney-client privilege is. And I also know that your wife prefers plausible deniability when it comes to your cases." He narrowed his eyes at her. “So, nice try."

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes and giving him a sullen look more fitting for a teenager. "Fine, I won't be telling Emma, but you," she removed one crossed arm to jab a finger at him, widening her eyes for emphasis, "better figure out what you're going to do about this. She can't be your patient anymore, and not just because you made her come on your table."

He slumped slightly in his chair. “I realize that. I was thinking about—“ Something clicked in his head and he pulled himself up again. "Wait, what do you mean 'not just'? What's the other reason?"

Regina gave him a droll look. "Seriously? I wasn't even in the room and I could tell how much she likes you. It's practically indecent, the crush she's got on you." She gave him a dark little grin.

"...What?"

"She has. A crush. On you."

"That's not possible." Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably. The entire conversation was making him feel like someone had yanked the rug of his tidy life out from under him. A woman interested in him, let alone a _pretty_ one, after what happened? It was a joke.

"You'd think, and yet, here we are." Regina threw her hands, palms out, before propping them under her chin and giving him a look of mock-puzzlement.

"You're digging, Regina. You’re not going to find what I think you’re looking for.”

"Well alright then, _obi-gyn-kenobi_ , please tell me what I _should_ be seeing? Because right now I'd bet a bottle of very expensive scotch that she's thought about what happened several times and would just _love_ to take it further." 

"I...don't know." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Jesus, this is—I’m in such deep shit."

"Yes. In several ways." She gushed, clearly enjoying his discomfiture.

He threw her a glare. "You don't need to sound so cheerful about it."

She ignored him. “But for the record, as your lawyer, it's my duty to tell you that you should not see this girl as a patient again, not talk to her as a patient again, and let Astrid show her the door, so to speak, if she calls for another appointment." 

She softened her tone a bit, giving him a sympathetic look. "But off the record, as your friend, Thaddeus," he looked up at her, she didn't often use the word 'friend' or his first name when referencing their relationship outside of her legal expertise, "I think you need to ask her on a date."

He stared at her, at sea with the quick shift. "A date?"

"You do remember how to do it, right? Dinner, music, you pay, et cetera." Regina leaned back and propped her feet on the corner of her desk, wiggling one pointy-toed pump.

"Of course, I'm not an imbecile." He ground out, embarrassed and exasperated.

“Well, you're sitting there asking questions like you just learned to speak English, so..."

”Whatever, Regina.” He huffed in indignation, moving to leave.

She laughed at him, actually laughed, and swung her legs down from the desk. "Ok, alright, I'm sorry for teasing you. I've just never seen you take a step over the line, and when you finally decide to, you set fire to it!"

He raised his eyes heavenwards. “The universe is fucking with me right now.”

"No, Gold, it’s not. And neither am I. Ask her out."

He paced, feeling very much like a caged beast, stopping to throw words at her. "You never even stopped to ask me if _I_ was interested in _her_ , Regina. How do you know she’s even my type?”

She snorted. "I didn't have to ask, I heard the way you talked to her," she raised an eyebrow lasciviously, "and _everything_ you said."

Thaddeus gripped the back of the chair, squeezing until his knuckles turns white.

He was caught in the oddest threesome he could envision, only without the fun bits. On one side, an unholy, practically illegal temptation in one Belle French. A ridiculous combination of innocent and saucy and it was fucking _distracting_. Two interactions and he was insane.

And on the other side, a woman he'd known for the better part of twenty years. She'd been his son's babysitter until college, and then she'd returned to Storybrooke with a shiny new law degree and an edge to her personality. 

He'd been her first client. She was the attorney for his estate, shop, and medical practice, and from that they'd formed an odd sort of friendship, going to each other for practically everything tough. 

Thaddeus was there when Regina came out to her parents after law school, and maneuvered her in the right direction when she first realized she was falling for the pretty blonde sheriff, Emma (whose own parents were much more understanding). He was the occasional babysitter for their son Henry, now a very precocious nine-year-old, as she'd been for his son when Bailey was little.

As adults, they'd gotten drunk many a night and talked to the wee hours about life and all manner of bullshit until he'd either passed out in Regina and Emma's spare room, or Emma had to come pick her up from his odd pink ( _salmon_ ) mansion. Emma never did join them, teasing them that one of the two parents should probably stay sober for the kid, and besides, Gold and Regina needed their "girl's nights”, as Emma referred to them.

And now here was Regina, the closest thing he had to a best friend, going against common legal sense and pushing him to ask out the petite brunette.

“Anywhere but Granny’s.”

He gave her a wry look. “No shit.”

“Go to Marco’s.”

He drummed his fingers on the back of the chair, praying for patience. “Regina, you don’t need to be my fairy godmother.” He threw a smirk back at her. “Sparkly dresses really aren’t your thing.”

"Maybe not, but I’m sure I could find a place to shove a glass slipper, Gold.” She retorted with false sweetness.

He chuckled. They were a fucked-up pair. But, maybe she was right.

“Fine.”

She leaned forward, a triumphant smile beginning on her face. “What was that?”

He leveled his gaze at her. “I said ‘fine’.”

“‘Fine’ as in glass slipper,” Regina’s grin turned wicked and wide, “or ‘fine’ as in you’ll ask out Miss French?”

“I’ll ask her out.”

Regina leaned back in her chair once more, looking smug as hell. “Good. Because I wasn’t kidding about that glass slipper.” She waved her hands at him. “Now, shoo. I have things to do and you’re taking up time I could be charging people for.”

Heaving one last sigh, he turned to leave, and made it almost all the way to the door before he heard her call out.

“Oh, and don’t forget to light her files on fire after you douse the one in your pants!”

His jaw worked in annoyance at her. He was going to regret this.

 

 

After Regina was certain he’d gone, she picked up her cell and dialed her wife, a gleeful grin on her face when Emma picked up.

“Guess what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, this didn't go where I initially thought it would, and it's shorter than I planned, but I'm ok with that!
> 
> As usual, open for prompts, and please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two idiots.

In the end, it took Thaddeus two whole days to work up the nerve to ask Belle out. He’d paced around his house, trying to figure out the best way to do it without turning into a stammering idiot like he usually did around her. Not to mention not reminding her of what had happened between them the first time they met.

If he’d given her pleasure if any other circumstance, he’d feel a lot more confident right now. Probably downright cocky and he’d march in wherever she was all suave and smooth and sweep her off her feet.  
  
As it was, he was neither smooth nor suave and every way he came up with to ask her ended with him envisioning her spread out on a table for him to feast on. A very pleasant image, but he couldn’t just show up with a full-blown erection and invite her to dinner. Not the best impression to make.

He was also afraid he was developing a weird kink about tables.

Thaddeus had managed to avoid a few texts from Regina inquiring as to the status of his quest, but when his phone gave a merry little ‘ding!’, and he saw it was from Emma, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

> _ESM: Gold, if you don’t ask her out soon, I’ll arrest you for indecent exposure._

He frowned at the phone. Damn Regina, she promised she wouldn’t tell.

> _TG: I have no idea what you’re talking about._
> 
> _ESM: I bet Belle does. I could always ask her_.

He sighed, peeved at her interference. 

> _TG: Not necessary, Mrs. Swan-Mills. I’m quite capable of handling myself, thank you._
> 
> _ESM: You and someone else, apparently ;)_
> 
> _TG: You’re too old for emojis. Don’t you have a child to take care of?_
> 
> _ESM: He’s 9. He won’t burn anything down. So? ;) ;) ;)_

The phone gave a satisfying bounce as he threw it on his couch and stalked into the kitchen, intent on making himself a strong cup of tea in lieu of a stiff drink. The phone chirped again, but he ignored it, pulling a cup from his cupboard. His gaze landed on the antique cherry table in the center of his dining room and the King Charles chairs around it, and a picture of Belle flashed into his mind.

She’d be in a tiny blue dress and perched on the table, legs held primly together, hands braced behind her, and he’d be lounging in the chair in front of her. In his mind’s eye, Thaddeus saw himself move the chair closer to her and press her knees apart, pulling her legs up to hook them on his shoulders, and he'd push her dress up to look at her. In his fantasy she’d be nude under her dress, maybe with just a small nest of dark curls like she had on his table two weeks ago and he’d lean in—

He broke himself out of his perverted reverie with a disgusted scoff, hastily assembling the components for tea and setting the water to boil.

_Perverted old man._

Returning to the living room to await the kettle, he remembered he’d tossed his phone down on the couch and picked it up to see if Emma had anything else with which to harass him.

He wasn’t disappointed.

> _ESW: You know, the least you could do is send me some gibberish so I know you’re still alive over there, TG._
> 
> _TG: I’m fine. I don’t do ‘gibberish’. I’ll ask her if for no other reason than to get the two of you off my ass._

Thaddeus smiled wryly and hit ‘send’. The Swan-Mills women did seem to care for him, and were obviously hell-bent on getting him laid and keeping him out of jail. He ought to consider himself lucky. His phone gave another beep.

> _ESW: Wanna borrow my cuffs once you finally ask her?_

_I take it back. They’re hellcats bent on my destruction._

His nights had featured dreams where he did all manner of filthy things to Belle, and Thaddeus had woken with the kind of erection he was afraid he’d be sporting like a fucking teenager when he found her and finally asked her out. 

Some dark imp in the back of his mind suggested slyly that he take himself in hand and just solve the problem. And he’d wanted to. Fuck, he’d wanted to thoroughly abuse himself to images of Belle but the thought of facing her after having a quick tug like that made him feel dirty, and not in the good way.

He’d settled for a cold shower, which seemed to do the trick, and he managed to keep his mind off Belle until he was downstairs prepping his morning tea.

He mused as he made his way around his kitchen, thinking perhaps he’d stop and pick up flowers for her, or was that too presumptuous when he hadn’t even asked her out yet? It’d been so damn long since he’d been in the world of dating, he was no longer sure. The last time he’d been on anything resembling a date, it was in a different century and country.

Maybe Baedan would know. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button, hearing his son’s voice after a couple rings.

_“Gold’s Fine Antiquities, how can I help you today?”_

Thaddeus smiled into the phone. “Hi Bae.”  
  
_“Oh, hey, Papa! What’s up?”_

“I have a question for you, if you have a minute?”

He didn’t catch the reply, as someone chose that moment to ring his doorbell.

The sound was a puzzling interruption. He wasn’t expecting company and hadn’t ordered anything recently and so he was at a loss as to who the visitor might be. 

“Just a moment, Bae. Someone’s at the door.” Thaddeus moved to the front of the house, intending to shoo the person away quickly and get his answers so he could be on the road, but he stopped, shocked by what he saw upon pulling open the heavy oak door.

Belle French was standing on his porch, with her big eyes and her oh-so forgiving, yet saucy, nature and a somewhat uncertain but brave smile on her face, and she was holding a tiny pot of flowers that matched her eyes and the tiny blue dress she had on, complete with very high red heels.

He gulped.

 _“Papa? What’s your question?”_ He heard from somewhere near his hand.

He remembered belatedly he was still on with his son. “Bae, I have to call you back.” He hung up without waiting for a reply.

The physician in him worried for a second about her traipsing around town in needle-like stilettos and an image of massaging her sore feet and working his way up her legs with her moaning in contented pleasure flashed in his head. He forced himself to focus on less…volatile thoughts. Like the pot in her hands. Which he was pretty sure were orchids. Blue orchids. A sexual flower if ever there was one.

He gulped.

“Hi, Thaddeus. Did I interrupt something?” She gestured to the phone in his hand, and he spared it a look before tossing it onto a nearby side table.

“What are you doing here?” He cringed inwardly as her smile fell a little at his tone.

“Well, I was…sort of in the neighborhood, and wanted to give these to you. We just got a fresh shipment in.” She shrugged her lovely bare shoulders and held the flowers out a little to him. “They reminded me of you.”

“Oh.” Only his second reply and it was a stupid one. “That’s…very kind of you. But…how did you get this address?” He was genuinely curious, Storybook was small enough to not need phonebooks but big enough that you had to know what you were looking for to find it. And the only other places that had his address on file were the antique shop and his office.  
  
Her smile dimmed with every comment out of his mouth and he wanted to kick himself. Preferably in the groin. “Oh, um, Ruby gave it to me.”

“My nurse Ruby?”

An embarrassed blush was creeping into her face. “Yes. I asked her, she didn’t volunteer it. In fact, I had to harangue her to even get it.” She smiled sheepishly and he just stared back like the awkward dolt he was, saying nothing. 

Her face changed, an embarrassed expression falling over her features, and she gestured back towards town. “You know what, I-I think I’m just going to go back to my father’s shop. Sorry to have disturbed you. Have a nice day!” She started down the stairs, teetering carefully in her too-high heels, and it wasn’t until she was practically at the bottom that it sunk in what a fucking idiot he was being. 

_This is the girl you want to ask out, stupid!_

“Belle, wait!” He called, hoping she’d stop. 

She turned back to look up at him, her face still mortified, and he pushed his door back, moving to the side to allow for entry. “Forgive me. Would you like to come in?”

A relieved smile broke out over her face and she began the trek back up the steps. He very much wanted to scoop her up and carry her in, to save her poor feet from as much walking in those shoes as possible, but stayed where he was, lest he frighten her. Plus, the idea of carrying a woman over his threshold was too…intimate to think about at the moment.

As she made her way into the house, the tea kettle began to whistle shrilly, the noise just obnoxious enough to get him out of his own stupid way.

“I should get that. Would you like a cup of tea?” He gave her a small smile, hoping she’d accept it as an apology for his rudenss.

She smiled, wide and lovely, in return. “I’d love one, thank you.”

“Of course.” He gestured to the flowers still in her hands. “May I?”

“Oh! I’d completely forgotten I was holding them, jeez.” She laughed, handing him the bowl and he turned to lead her into the kitchen.

“I know these are orchids,” he said as they entered, placing them on the counter by the tea accoutrements he’d already arranged, “but the color is quite fascinating. I can’t say I’ve ever seen blue ones.” _And they match your eyes beautifully._

She sighed, somewhat wistfully. “Aren’t they pretty? There’s a breeder a little ways North and Papa had to have at least a few of them. He thinks they’ll sell well, they’ve been bred to withstand more than normal orchids do.” He watched, fascinated as she fingered a petal with reverence. 

“They’re usually so fragile, and it takes a very special kind of care to keep them happy. But these, however, are made of stronger stuff genetically.” She looked up at him. “A little affection will go a long way.”

_Are we still talking about orchids?_

He cleared his throat, looking away and busying himself with the tea. “Uh, yes, well…I-I hope you like Earl Grey.”

“That’s wonderful, thank you.” His fingers brushed hers as she accepted the proffered cup and she smiled shyly, ducking her head. He felt his face heat and knew he was grinning stupidly at her. Scolding himself internally, he took a large gulp of the tea, forgetting it was still quite hot, and spit the molten liquid out the moment it touched his tongue.

Unfortunately for Thaddeus, he spit in the direction of Belle, who ended up covered in backwashed Earl Grey tea. 

In the chaos of being spit on, she dropped her cup in surprise and took a brief moment to register getting wet before seeing what she’d dropped.

She ducked down to the floor to retrieve it. 

“Oh my god!”

Well, any hope of asking her out had well and truly turned to ash and now she was down on the floor rather than face him. Not that he could blame her, fucking idiot that he was, spitting tea all over her and probably ruining her dress—

“I’m so sorry!” She popped back up with the teacup in her hands. “It—I chipped it, by accident. I’m really sorry, I can replace it or, or pay you for it?” She held it out to him, but he was frozen, staring at her with disbelief and mortification.

Belle gingerly set the cup down when he didn’t move to take it and skirted around the counter a bit timidly, coming to stand next to him and finding the dishtowel he kept on the oven handle.

He watched her in the space for a moment, dazed, before he snapped back to the present and grabbed the towel from her hand.  
  
“Oh, _fucking_ _hell_ …Belle, I am so sorry! It just—the tea was hot, and I forgot and, christ, I’ve gone and ruined your dress! Send me the dry cleaning bill, please. God, what a fucking idiot I am—“

Belatedly, he realized he was using the towel on her breasts, and pushing quite forcefully at that. He dropped it like it was on fire and backed up until he hit the counter, averting his eyes in shame.

“I…Belle, I…” He let out a string of unintelligible sounds before closing his eyes and speaking in a pained voice. “I swear, Belle, I do not make a habit of assaulting young women. And I am so very, very sorry for…spitting on you.”

He chanced to look up at her, and saw her struggling to hold back some strong emotion. Her bottom lip was caught in her teeth and she was holding it so hard it was a wonder she hand’t bitten through. Her shoulders were beginning to shake and he braced himself for tears, telling himself he deserved it and he was an asshole and, if she let him, he’d do whatever he could to comfort her and hope she’d forgive him.

He heard her snort, and then peals of laughter burst out of her, making her double over and clutch her sides. When she came up for air, still laughing, there were tears of mirth on her face and he found himself chuckling a little in response.

“Oh! Oh my god! I just—!” And she doubled over again.

When she finally began to slow down her laughter, and straightened up for good this time, wiping the tears off her face, the huge smile still lingered and she shook her head at him.

“Oh, Thaddeus. What am I going to do with you?” She reached up and touched his face, and it was so unexpected that he couldn't stop his own hand coming up to press hers in more closely.

Her smile changed into something more gentle, and she moved a little closer, placing her other hand on his chest. He stared into her eyes, full of affection and lingering silliness and warmth and watched her slowly move in until she was a breath away from his mouth.

It was as clear of an invitation as Thaddeus could imagine, and he closed the distance in a shot, pressing his lips against hers and sliding his arms around her waist to pull her more fully against him. She gave a delightful squeak of surprise but responded to him with enthusiasm, sliding her arms around his neck and her fingers into his hair to play with the long strands.

The learned each other passionately for a moment before settling into a soft, warm meeting of lips and tongues, and when she pulled away first, he followed, not wanting to let it end.

He let out a needy little whimper when her lips left his, and she gave a warm giggle in response.

“Thaddeus?”

_Words. Use words. Speak._

“Yes, Belle?”  
  
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this scene, I hope it shows :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the kiss and the tea spit all over poor Belle!

Belle had come to his house, brought him flowers and then had kissed him and asked him to dinner. Thaddeus had to admit to some relief that she’d beaten him to it, for he was sure he’d never have gotten up the nerve. Especially not after the…incident with the Early Grey. And then she’d gone and sweetly offered to replace his chipped cup, like the darling that she was. 

Not that he’d let her. It was his fault for using such delicate china in the first place, and besides, that cup was now his favorite possession, made all the more special by the little nick in the rim.

He’d been so nervous that she was even there, he hadn’t stopped to realize she’d been there _in his house_. She’d walked on his floors and stood in his kitchen and even though she had the misfortune of being spit on, she still grabbed the towel like she belonged there, and he found himself very much wanting her to belong there. 

Oh, he was in so much trouble. 

She’d waved away his offer to wash her dress and lend her some clothing while it was in the laundry, saying that accidents happen, and she’s spit her fair share of tea over books, but never a person, and she hoped to have the privilege someday. 

She’d been so gentle with her teasing and so adorable when she bit her lip after she’d made her little joke that he almost dragged her then and there up the stairs to have his filthy way with her, but somehow managed to see her out with a modicum of grace and politeness.

She’d smiled shyly at him at his door and he found it in him to make a gentle quip about her shoes and his porch stairs and she’d laughed _with_ him, not _at_ him, and his grin was so stupid as she carefully walked down that he was afraid his brains had slipped out to land on the floor.

His mental state was quickly returned to him as he glanced at his watch and realized he was going to be late for his first appointment of the day.

He grabbed his keys and headed out the door, blind to everything but making the appointment at some semblance of on-time, and it wasn’t until he was settled in his car and putting it in reverse that he noticed there was no extra vehicle in his driveway. Which meant… 

He looked around, and sure enough, Belle was walking down his sidewalk.

_What…?_

Concern suffused him. She’d _walked_ all the way to his house, and in _those_ shoes? 

It was…adorable. But also enough to make him feel quite guilty for all but shooing her out, especially after what he did to her dress. Never mind that she kissed him.

 _Wait, no, always mind, always remember that._  
  
He stopped where he was, putting the car in park, and got out, hurrying to catch up, though she hadn’t gotten far with footwear like that.

“Belle!” He called, and she turned around with a sweetly quizzical smile.

“Thaddeus! Are you ok? Did I forget something at your house?”

He smiled, he couldn't help it. “No, no, I’m fine.” He caught up with her. “Did you…did you walk all the way here from town? In those shoes?” He pointed to her feet and she glanced down before looking back up with a slightly sheepish grin.

“Um, yes?”

“You don’t have a car?”

“Well, no. We have Papa’s delivery van, but he was out on delivery.” She blushed a little and he realized she’d closed the store just to come see him. Had she planned the kiss? Oh, he hoped so.

“You should probably get back.” He blanched. “Not—not that I want you to leave! I just…you know, business…” he finished lamely.

_Fucking hell._

She gave him a sweet little smirk, her eyes twinkling. “It’s ok, I know what you meant.” She reached up and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you later?”

“No!”

She frowned, pulling back. “No?”

He huffed, rolling his eyes at himself. Leave it to him to take things from lovely to awkward in the span of minutes.

“Sorry, I-I meant, let me drive you into town.”  
  
“Oh, that’s so kind of you, but I’m ok. I mean, I walked all the way here.”

“I know, and…it’s really not good for you in those shoes.” He pointed to her feet, concern etched on his face. “Have you ever seen the studies done about what heels do to a woman’s body? They’re lovely shoes, of course, and you look quite fetching in them, but to do all that walking, you must be in so much pain and—“

“I thought you were a gynecologist?” Belle interrupted, one eyebrow quirked and lips adorably pursed in a way that reminded him of what it was like to kiss her.

“I…well, yes, of course.”

“Then why the sudden fascination with my feet? Are you thinking of going into podiatry?” She gasped theatrically, putting a hand to her chest. “Dr. Gold, do you have,” she leaned in, “a _foot fetish_?”

“What?! No, I’m…Belle, I’m a physician, I’m concerned with all your…parts,” An embarrassed flush crept up his face as he realized what he’d said. “I’m not…into feet, or, or anything like that.”

_Except tables. And you on them. Naked._

She smirked. “All my parts, hmm?”

It was Thaddeus’ turn to hide his face, and he laughed nervously. “That didn’t come out right. _None_ of that came out right.”

She giggled. “I know what you meant. You’re just so fun to tease.” She took his hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “Will it make you feel better if I come with you into town?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” _For many reasons._

“Then that’s settled. Lead the way!” She didn’t let go of him as they made their short way back to the car, even going so far as to slide her hand up his arm, making him unconsciously bend his elbow up to keep her hand tucked there as they walked.

He mourned the loss of contact as he helped her into the passenger side, and gulped a little as he saw the pale loveliness of her legs as she gracefully slid into the car.

They made a quick detour to her apartment, long enough for her to grab a second dress. Belle invited him up, but he declined, latching onto the excuse of waiting patients instead of telling her the truth that if he went up there, surrounded by everything _Belle_ , they’d never make it back down. 

Not for awhile, at least.

She returned, second dress in-hand and got back in his car, filling the interior with companionable chatter as he drove.

“What made you decide on a Cadillac?” Her face was open, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

He smiled at the road. “It was actually my son, Baedan, who chose this. He thought the black looked smart and wanted a big car to drive all the girls around in when he was old enough.”

She gave a merry little laugh. “And did he?"

“Drive all the girls around, you mean? Well, not all of them, but a few. I did catch him in the driveway once trying to put the moves on his high school girlfriend.”  
  
Belle gasped. “Oh, no! Poor kid!” She groaned in understanding. “Was he grounded for life?”

Thaddeus barked a laugh. “Oh, hardly. Before I could even get to the car to reprimand him, I saw Moraine, the girl, give him a good slap.” He chuckled at the memory. “I decided that was punishment enough and went right back inside.”

She laughed again, such a cheerful, sweet sound and he decided he’d be the happiest man alive if she’d let him try to make her laugh for the rest of his days.

All too soon, he pulled up to _Game of Thorns_. She sighed a little as he put the car in park.

“Well, this is me, I suppose.” Her smile was warm, slightly rueful as he turned in his seat to look at her. “Thank you so much for driving me, Thaddeus.”

“You’re quite welcome, Belle.” He fidgeted a little. “And, I’m sorry again about…earlier. Please send me the dry cleaning bill, I insist.”

She scoffed, batting a hand against his arm playfully. “Oh, please. What’s a little spilled tea between...friends?” She gave him a saucy look.

Belle leaned over, and pressed her lips to his briefly, catching him off guard and all he could do was stare, wide-eyed and dopey, when she pulled back. “Pick me up tomorrow at eight? I’ll let you choose where we go.” She unlocked her seatbelt. “And thank you for noticing my shoes, Thaddeus.” She gave him a little wink, and left the car, teetering towards the shop before he could register that she’d even left.

 _Tomorrow. Eight pm date. With Belle._  

He wondered if he should text his lawyer-cum-friend and that _delightful_ spouse of hers to let them know. He normally wouldn't feel like dealing with their ribbing, but he was in too good of a mood to care, and he wasn’t above a little gloating.

He fished out his phone when he got to his usual parking spot at the clinic, and typed up a quick text to Regina.

> _TG: No need to have me arrested anymore, dearie._

His phone chirped in response so quickly after he sent the message, he wondered if she’d been waiting for him to text all along. 

> _RSM: About time, too! How did you ask her?_
> 
> _TG: She beat me to it..._
> 
> _RSM: That is sheer perfection. I’m absolutely elated!_

Thaddeus quirked an eyebrow at his phone. Was she being serious, or just rude?

> _TG: Well, thank you, I think, but may I ask why you’re so enthused with my romantic life?  
>  _
> 
> _RSM: Because I care about you, ass. Plus, Emma now owes me $50._
> 
> _TG: …That’s the going rate for my dignity these days?_
> 
> _RSM: Yes._

He rolled his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. “Good to know some things never change.” He turned his phone to vibrate and slipped it back into a pocket, pushing open the back door to the clinic. 

He made his way to the front, grabbing the necessary files from Astrid and felt a small buzz in near his thigh. Fishing out his cell, he checked to see who wanted him.

> _ESM: You suck._

He grinned evilly at his phone, typing a response quickly with one hand and hitting send.

> _TG: Not yet, but if all goes well tomorrow…_
> 
> _ESM: gross. Also, go to Marcos._
> 
> _TG: Your wife already mentioned that._
> 
> _ESM: And that’s why she’s my wife ;)_

He rolled his eyes fondly, stashing the phone and knocking on his first patient’s door before entering. Ashley McGuire again, this time correctly, and she was 38 weeks and counting as of that day. He smiled at her warmly.

“Good morning, Mrs. MacGuire. How are you and your little one feeling today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is next! I can't wait :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey long time no update... Sorry everyone. RCIJ kicked my ass and my brain was like 'LOL WE DON'T HAVE WORDS, STUPID.'
> 
> Anyway. I know I promised dinner for this chapter, and dinner normally leads to sex, but plans changed and someone else literally drove into the story... Heh.
> 
> Thank you for your patience! Let me know what you think!

All things being equal (which they rarely were) the previous day had been a good one for Gold. He’d kissed Belle despite the tea accident, had made dinner plans with her, and his patients has been easy going. 

Well, except for Ashley McGuire. 

She still hadn’t quite forgiven him for mistaking her for Mrs. Lucas. Their appointment had been tense, as she was still too annoyed with him to give much in the way of answers to his questions.

Which was…alright, for now. Even though she _was_ quite near to her due date, and it _was_ her first child. He wanted to be sure she knew that anything could happen any day now, but she’d waved him off like he was an obnoxious insect and said she’d understood. 

An awkward ultrasound later and she was waddling out his door. At least she’d been the first patient of the day. The rest had gone as swimmingly as possible for a gynecologist.

This day, the date-day, was luckily light on patients, and he smiled to himself as he meandered across the street to Granny’s to grab lunch before trying to put a dent in some lab paperwork.

He opened the door, the bell on top tinkling merrily and nearly ran into Astrid and her surly boyfriend Leroy as they made their way out. Leroy gave him a scowl and a grumble and Astrid mouthed an apology as they left, but Thaddeus couldn’t bring himself to mind. His mood was too good.

He took a booth close to the door and settled in, smiling at Ruby when she dropped off his menu and cutlery. She often worked shifts at the diner for her grandmother when she wasn’t working for him. He knew she was trying to pay off nursing school loans quick, and admired her for it.

“What’ll it be, Doc?” She pulled her pad and pencil out and poised them to write.

“Ah,” he opened the menu, giving a quick, but unnecessary, perusal, “I’ll have a hamburger and…a chocolate milkshake, please.” He handed back the menu.

Ruby grinned. “Breaking with habit today?”

“Sort of fancied a change, I suppose.” He shrugged, fiddling with his napkin.

Ruby gave him a wolf-like smile, cocking a hip out and waggling her pencil at him. 

“This wouldn't have to do with a date with a certain gorgeous brunette tonight, would it?”

“What?” He jolted in surprise, knocking the silverware off the table. Ruby laughed as she bent to retrieve it. “H-how do you know about that?”

“Relax, Doc.” She straightened again. “Belle and I are friends, and she told me about it.” She shrugged a shoulder, meaning no harm in her teasing.

“Oh.” _Right._ Belle was new to town, but charming and lovely. Of course she’d easily make friends. And of course it would be with one of his nurses. _Jesus._

Ruby looked over her shoulder at the counter before sitting down. “Ok, if it makes you feel less nervous, Belle’s excited about tonight. But don’t tell her I told you.”

“She is?” His mouth curved up in a crooked half-smile.

“Yeah, she is. Like, really excited.” Ruby looked back to the counter. “Gotta go! I’ll put your order in and be back in a minute with your shake.”

Gold watched her bemusedly as she got up and walked towards the counter where the town’s ginger-haired psychologist, Archie, was patiently waiting, gazing at Ruby with a heart-eyed stare that rivaled his dalmatian’s when faced with a treat. 

Gold looked away, the small smile still on his face. Belle was excited about their date. Excited enough to tell a friend, even if she had picked one who wasn’t ideal for keeping a secret. Ruby was a good sort, just a bit of a blabbermouth in her personal life. At least her heart was in the right place and she’d blabbed to him to help his nerves.  
  
Only, it didn’t.

Sure, it was thrilling to know Belle was looking forward to spending time with him, but it also ratcheted up his worry over fucking up tenfold. He began to tear his napkin as his mind spun, until a gentle voice caught his attention.

“Doctor Gold?”

He looked up to see the bespectacled visage of Archie looking down at him, a friendly, inquisitive smile on his freckled face.

“May I sit with you?”

“Oh, um, yes. Please, have a seat.” Thaddeus gestured.  

“Might I ask what’s got you needing a new napkin?”

“What?” Thaddeus looked down to see the shredded paper slips on the table. “Oh, that. Well,” he paused as Ruby brought over his shake, “I…have a date. Tonight.”

“That’s wonderful, I’m so pleased for you.” Archie responded, genuine delight in his voice. “Who are you taking out?"

“The young woman who just moved here. Belle French.” Thaddeus took a sip of his shake. “Her father owns _Game of Thorns._ ” He added lamely.

“I see.”

Thaddeus frowned. “See what, exactly?”

“Why you’re nervous. She seems very intelligent and sweet, not to mention kind.” 

_You forgot beautiful,_ he thought, but merely grunted in assent.

Archie smiled at Ruby as she returned bearing their plates, and Thaddeus saw her wink in return before leaving. “And I bet you’re sitting here worrying over whether you’re good enough, and taking it out on your poor napkin.” Archie gave a sympathetic chuckle. “I know that feeling well.”

“I…” Thaddeus shifted, a bit uncomfortable at being read so succinctly. “Yes, that’s the basics of it.” He fiddled with a french fry before popping it into his mouth.

“Anything else on your mind?” Archie picked up his fork and started to poke into his salad.

_She’s a virgin and what if things miraculously go well tonight and she comes back to my place and I fuck this all up…_

“I … don’t want her to do anything she doesn't want to do.”

Archie paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “And how would that happen?” He took the bite of lettuce as he waited for Thaddeus to answer.

Thaddeus made a production of putting ketchup on his burger in an effort to stall. He couldn't just blurt out his fear that he’d make a mess of the date, or worse, that it would go perfectly, but then he’d be a fucking idiot all over her and she’d run screaming, or…or _laughing_.

So he shrugged, feeling like a petulant teenager. “I don’t know.”  
  
“She’s an adult, isn’t she?” Archie seemed relaxed enough but Thaddeus knew his psychologist-senses were on high alert.

“Yes.” A beat passed. “She’s twenty-one. Has a degree, I believe.”  
  
“I see.” 

_See what?_ Thaddeus wanted to shout. _What are you seeing that I’m not?_

_“_ Thaddeus,” the man in question raised his head in surprise at Archie using his first name, “are you more concerned the date might go _too_ well? And turn into something you’re not sure she’d be ready for?”

_What the fuck._

“Yes.” Thaddeus expelled the word on a breath. He looked around at the other patrons, relieved to see they were basically alone in their corner of the restaurant. “Archie … I consider this covered under doctor-patient confidentiality, agreed?”

Archie lowered his brows in question, but nodded. “I’d like to think we’re friends first, but I consider anything we talk about private, unless it warrants reporting to the authorities, of course.” He pushed his empty plate away. “Would you prefer to go to my office for the remainder of our conversation? I won’t charge you.”

Thaddeus looked down at his own plate, realizing with a start that he’d eaten the entire meal and hardly noticed. “Yes, I think that’s probably a good idea.” He checked his watch, seeing he had plenty of time before his next patient, and decided the paperwork could wait a little longer. He really needed to talk part this through with someone who wouldn't laugh at him.

He tossed a couple twenties on the table, smirking when Archie objected and telling him it was his way of ensuring the doctor-patient privilege. Archie give a wry laugh and lead him out of the restaurant back to his office.

Once there, settled on Archie’s comfortable leather sofa, the truth poured out.

How they'd met (except for the orgasm, he kept that bit to himself), how Belle had told him she was a virgin, how she’d come by his house and kissed him and asked him out and then kissed him again as he dropped her off for work, how he was planning to take her to Marco’s, but was that not good enough for a first date? Should they go out of town to something fancier?

“Alright.” Archie put his hands up to stop the flow of words from Thaddeus’s mouth. “Let’s back up a little, ok?”

Thaddeus ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the long strands and sank back against the couch with a sigh.

“Of course, sorry. I just … it’s all been bottling up for a couple of weeks now.”

“It’s ok. Let’s go back to how you first met. Can I assume you won’t continue being her doctor anymore?”

“Yes.” After making her come on his table like that, he’d never be able to look at her impassively again, regardless of the promise he’d made in his office. And he’d drive her to the next town over himself rather than see Whale get his filthy hands on any part of her. “I’m taking steps to sever that part of our association.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Now, you don’t seem perturbed by her kisses; I assume you enjoyed them?”

“Very much.” Enough to make him desperate to use his mouth on the rest of her. _While naked. In his bed._ He shifted on the couch, the turn of his thoughts making his pants feel tight.

“So that leads me to believe that your worries lay with how to handle her virginity, should you come to that bridge, so to speak.”

Thaddeus released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. “Yes. I’m concerned she’ll feel as if she owes me for the date, whether it goes well or poorly.”

“Do you want to have sex with her?”

“Fuck yes.” He was glad Archie didn't flinch at the curse. “But I’ll be damned if she comes to my bed out of some kind of misguided sense of obligation. If she’s there, I want her there because she wants _me_.”

He stopped. The idea had been in a nebulous fog in his mind for weeks, but was revealed with sudden clarity. Archie looked at him knowingly.

“It’s not really about her virginity, is it, Thaddeus.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. It—no, it’s not. I want her to want me as much as I want her.”

“Then you need to—“

“To trust her to make the choice for herself.” He blinked. “She came to my house. She asked me out. I kissed her first, but the second kiss,” he looked up at Archie, “that was _her_ choice.”

Archie smiled knowingly. “I think you figured it out.”

A lop-sided smile broke over Thaddeus’ face. “Yes. I think so, too.”

“So?” Archie raised his eyebrows, opening his hands wide. “What’s next?”

“I have a date to get ready for.” Thaddeus made to stand, preparing to bolt like an excited dog, but Archie stopped him with a laugh and a hand outstretched.

“That’s all well and good, but perhaps you should see to the rest of your work day first?”

“Oh. Right.” Thaddeus scrubbed a hand through his hair again. “I suppose it’s bad form to ship off the rest of the day?”

Archie chuckled. “Yes, Dr. Gold, it is.”

“Right.” He could do this. He was a damned adult; he could be a doctor first, and Belle’s date later. He turned back to Archie, feeling a bit raw at dumping his proverbial guts so easily. “Ah, thank you.”

Archie shook his head fondly. “No need. It’s what I’m here for.” He smiled. “How many patients do you have left today?”

“Just a few, I believe, and pretty close together, too.” He gave a nervous laugh, checking his watch. “Plenty of time to work myself up again.”

Archie stood, placing a gentle hand on Thaddeus’ shoulder. “I think you can make it a few more hours.” He smiled. “Go on, see to your patients, and then show Belle a lovely evening.”

—

Thaddeus made his way back, mulling over his realization.

Perhaps it would be alright, with Belle. Perhaps he could take Hopper’s advice, let her set the pace, and maybe that would prevent him from fucking things up. Well, irreversibly, anyway. He felt practically predestined to fuck something up, the last few weeks were testament to that.

He stepped off the sidewalk, crossing into the street when the panicked squeal of harshly-braking wheels snapped him out of his reverie.

He narrowly avoided being bowled over by an obnoxiously emerald convertible, jumping back onto the sidewalk in the nick of time, and watched dumbly as the driver pulled the car to a lurching stop and hastily climbed out, slamming the door and barreling towards him in a flurry of red hair and shamrock skirts. 

It was a hell of a lot of green for one person.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, standing in the middle of the road? You could have damaged my car!” She yelled, by way of introduction, one finger pointed out like a gun at his chest. “Some people have places to be in this little backwater of a town, you know, and _you_ are in my way!”

Thaddeus was taken aback for all of three seconds before bearing down on her with a scowl. 

“Even this ‘little backwater’ has laws, Madam, and you happened to break several while you so adroitly managed to avoid running me over.” He retorted, an acerbic bite lacing his words. “Shall we take a walk to the Sheriff’s office, where I fully intend to give a full report of the not only ridiculous speed at which you entered this town, but the harassment, the illegal parking, and the general unpleasantness which you’re heaping upon my person?”

She contorted her face in displeasure, her red mouth turning down unattractively at the corners as her eyes flicked over him with disgust. “You can’t be arrested for ‘unpleasantness’, otherwise I suspect you’d have been locked up a long time ago.” She huffed, turning away and flicking a negligent hand at him. “You’ve wasted enough of my time.”

She climbed back into her car, reversing with another squeal of her tires, and took off around the nearest corner.

Thaddeus shook his head and continued the short walk to his office. Wherever she was headed, he felt sorry for the poor folk who had to deal with her.

He made his way into the clinic, nodding a greeting to the nurses he saw, and was preparing to pull some files from his office when he spotted Astrid coming towards him down the hall.

“Hey, Doc!” She waved, hurrying her steps. “I need to talk to you about something. Got a sec?”

He smiled. “Is this about Leroy? Because I assure you, I’m well-inured to his particular way of greeting people by now.” 

She flushed as she came to a stop. “Oh, no, not that. Though, I am sorry. He’s such a sweetheart with me!” She shook her head fondly. “No, this is something else. Can we talk?”

He grasped the handle of his office door, turning it and speaking over his shoulder to Astrid. “Of course, dear, come in and have a seat—“

He stopped when the door swung fully open to reveal a red-headed woman, clad head-to-toe in an appallingly shamrock green outfit, sitting in the chair across from his desk and flipping through one of his monthly medical journals.

She turned at the sound of the door opening, a sickly-sweet smile lifting her mouth, but it crashed back down when she saw who was there.

“You!"


End file.
